


Holocene

by Plaided_Ani



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adult Language, Angst, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Magic, Multi, Smut, Wizard AU, magical au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 20:01:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15396318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plaided_Ani/pseuds/Plaided_Ani
Summary: There were a lot of things about Sam Winchester’s life that weren’t normal. First and foremost, Sam Winchester was a wizard, his brother worked for the Seattle Police Department’s Special Investigation Unit that specialized in abnormal and supernatural cases, which Sam often consulted for.When you show up on his doorstep, naked, unconscious and no memories, you’re instantly drawn to Sam. Now mixed up in the world of magic and monster, you’re not sure if you want return to your old life, whatever it may be.Heavily inspired by Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files.





	Holocene

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many series now and I know I owe chapters for them, but I really want to tell this story. This chapter is basically an interest check. If there is none, then I’ll squash it and continue on with my other works, but I’d really like to continue this.
> 
> Holocene by Bon Iver.

There were a lot of things about Sam Winchester’s life that weren’t normal.

First and foremost, Sam Winchester was a wizard, full on Harry Potter without all the broomsticks and Quidditch. Spells and potions, research and artifices. He loved everything about being a wizard, even if it brought difficulties in his life, such as paying his bills.

Wizards, thankfully, were good at aiding those without magical abilities. He offered himself as a private investigator of sorts, looking for lost loved ones or family heirlooms. It put some food on the table, but being a consultant for the Seattle Police Department was what kept the roof over his head.

And when you showed up on his doorstep, naked and unconscious, the first person he called was Dean, his older brother and detective for Seattle’s Special Investigations Unit. A unit which specialized in the abnormal, the unexplained, the supernatural, everything that Sam specialized in, but not unknown naked women.

Dean, of course, was no stranger to the supernatural. From childhood he could hear things, see things and when Sam came into the picture, his world beyond the norm expanded. And Dean worked his butt off to get promoted from a beat cop to a detective in SIU while others saw it as a demotion, a black stain on the Seattle PD.

But they did good work, finding missing persons, solving murders that would have ended up as cold cases. They worked well as a team, despite Dean’s skeptic partner, Cole Trenton, calling bullshit on most of their methodology (e.g. Sam’s magic) and calling it all lucky. Pure luck.

And he took you in, placed you on his couch, covered you with a blanket and began to pace when nothing he did to try and wake you worked.

“Moose,” he huffed as the black, fluffy Newfoundland sniffed at your ear, “leave her alone.” The dog puffed into the side of your face and when you didn’t stir, he turned to Sam as if to ask what were they going to do. “We should call Dean.” The dog licked at his chops and trotted to the edge of the couch where your feet lay and climbed up as if he were the smallest, petite lapdog and flopped down. “You’re going to break her legs,” Sam sighed as he scrolled through his phone to get to his brother’s number. “Get down.” The dog huffed once more and stayed where he was, his head on the armrest, lying comfortably atop your lower half, keeping you safe and warm.

“Yeah, hey, uh I’ve got a situation here,” Sam greeted once his brother picked up. “No, it’s not our kind of situation. It’s more like a naked girl lying on my couch kind of situation.” He could hear the smirk on his brother’s face through the catcall he received. “No, Dean, it’s not like that, either. I was gonna let Moose out and she was there on my steps, just lying there. She won’t wake up.” 

Moose lifted his head and tilted it, hearing Dean’s voice through the line and his tail idly thumped against your covered thigh. “Yeah. No, come pick us up, but hurry.” When they hung up and Sam continued his pacing until he heard a honk outside. With his brother’s help, he got you into the backseat and they rushed to the hospital, Dean dropping the pair of you off at the door to the ER.

You were immediately rushed back leaving Sam in the waiting room, his knee bouncing and his thumbnail between his teeth. “She wake up yet,” Dean asked when he flopped down into his seat.

“Not yet,” Sam shook his head. “Or at least the docs haven’t come out to say anything. Hear about any missing persons reports?”

It was Dean’s turn to shake his head. “Not any recent and local, but I can dig into system when I get back to the station.” His eyes dropped to Sam’s knee and he slapped at it. “Calm down, man. What’s got you worked up?”

“I don’t know,” Sam’s voice dripping with sarcasm, “why don’t you find a naked girl passed out at your front door and not get worked up.”

“It’s not like you put her there,” Dean frowned, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “Or did you?” When Sam glowered at him, he lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Anyway, whoever the girl is, you’ll be a hero, you know? You found her.”

Sam bit the entire tip of his thumb then and sighed heavily. “She was kind of hard to miss,” he mumbled. They fell into silence then, both turning their eyes to the tv in the lobby to keep their minds occupied. Food Network was telling them how to cook the perfect roast when the doctor sought them out.

“She’s awake and has no idea who she is or where she’s from,” the doctor informed. “We scanned and poked and prodded, but she’s completely healthy. We think it might be psychological,” he sighed. “We’re going to have our staff psychologist come sit with her. We’ll need to inform the police, check for missing persons.”

Dean flashed his badge and professional smile, “Way ahead of you, doc. Think we can talk to her?” When the doctor looked over Sam, he flashed his consultant’s badge and earned a reluctant sigh. “Just a few minutes and we’ll let the shrink have her.” Sam elbowed him at his word choice, but the doctor nodded towards the double doors and they followed him down the hall.

You were in bed, hands clutched tight to the blanket you were brought in with, refusing to give it up despite being given a gown and sheets. When the brothers entered, you stiffened for a moment, but your eyes locked onto Sam’s and you relaxed. They flashed you their badges and introduced themselves, each giving you a soft smile before Dean started in. “How’re you feeling?”

“Tired,” you rasped, your throat still raw no matter how much water you drank or ice cubes you chewed.

“So you don’t remember your name? How you got here,” he asked, pulling up a chair to sit next to you, Sam stood at the foot of your bed. You shook your head, eyes trailing over Dean before they went back to Sam. “Do you know who he is?”

You opened your mouth and closed it, shaking your head, but your grip on the blanket tightened even more. “No.” You turned your attention back to Dean when Sam’s face softened. “Do you know who I am?”

“Not yet,” Dean admitted. “But I’m going to be checking the database to see if we can figure that out. Now, you’re sure you don’t remember anything? Anything at all?”

You closed your eyes and laid back against the pillows. “Cold,” you said. “I remember cold. It was so dark and cold.” As you recalled the only memory you had, the lights in the room started to flicker, the temperature rapidly dropped several degrees, enough for the boys to see their breath.

“Hey,” Sam said gently, placing a hand on your shin. Your eyes shot open and you met his concerned gaze. “It’s okay,” he smiled. The lights burned bright once more and the temperature started to rise to normal. “The hospital is going to send a psychiatrist here to speak to you. I think it would be best if you don’t tell them what you told us, okay?”

You looked at him, confused, but nodded.

“Why don’t you get some rest,” Dean suggested. “We’ll be in the waiting room and we’ll take you somewhere safe and comfortable when the doc gives the okay.”

“Take me where,” you frowned.

“Mine,” Dean shrugged, “or Sammy’s. Can’t take you anywhere else, not with what you are.”

“What? Do you do you mean what I am?”

“You didn’t-” he stopped mid-thought and looked to Sam who shrugged. “We’ll talk about this later. Just get some rest and try not to think too much, alright?” You looked at him, curious, but they were gone before you could ask any more questions. “So,” he asked Sam once they were in the hallway.

“So what,” Sam returned.

“Is she one of you?”

Sam looked back at your room door and shrugged. “I couldn’t sense anything,” he admitted.

“Then how did she do the thing with the cold and the lights,” Dean questioned.

“I don’t know. I mean, just because I couldn’t tell doesn’t mean she isn’t,” Sam said quietly as a nurse passed. “When we get her out of here, we’ll run the normal tests. But I think you should start with figuring out who she is first.”

Dean pulled out his phone and wiggled it Sam’s way. “I’m gonna make some calls. You wait here.” They made it back to the waiting room and parted when Dean made his call.

Normally Sam could sense other beings with magic abilities or potential. Dean could also suss out those with power and ill intent, but it took all of his focus and energy, but for Sam, it was like breathing. Whatever you were, neither could get a read on you at first glance. But it was clear that you had some kind of power, manipulating temperature and electricity without a foci took skill and training.

Sam sighed and stared at the television, watching competitors making cupcakes in some kind of challenge. His mind wandered to baking and the thought of making his own when he got home. If there was one thing Sam was good at, it was alchemy and cooking wasn’t too far off from it, took a lot less power to make it work.

Dean returned and knocked him out of his thoughts. “Trenton is expanding the search nationwide, gave him a rough description, he’ll get back to me.”

“Did you tell him everything,” Sam asked with a worried frown.

“Not everything,” Dean replied with a shake of his head, his attention, too, on the cooking show. “He was happy to be dealing with a normal case for once, I wasn’t going to bust his bubble.” Cole Trenton was Dean’s skeptical partner for the last two years, demoted from homicide to the SIU due to his unorthodox methodology. Dean was able to reign him in, keep him in check, even if he scoffed at every supposedly supernatural and abnormal thing they came across.

The nurse ushered you out into the waiting room now dressed in borrowed scrubs, still clutching the blanket. Dean was asked to sign off on the release papers, taking responsibility for you, but you moved to Sam’s side, smiling weakly up at him. He returned it and placed a hand on your shoulder with a comforting squeeze and once again, you seemed to relax at his touch.

“You hungry,” Dean asked, eyes dropping to where Sam held onto you.

“Starving,” you nodded. “They gave me a sandwich and stuff, but it wasn’t enough.” You shifted your weight and looked down, “But I don’t have any money or anything, I couldn’t ask you guys…”

“It’s okay,” Sam gently. “We’re not gonna ask you for money.” You didn’t seem to find that reassuring, but you nodded. They lead you out of the hospital and to Dean’s car, a sleek black classic muscle that roared to life once you settled in the back. “I think you’d be more comfortable at Dean’s, he has an extra room.”

“No,” you replied immediately. “I’d like to stay with you.” Sam turned in his seat, brows raised. “If that’s okay. I just… please?”

“Yeah, okay.” Sam gave you yet another smile before he turned forward, catching his brother’s gaze and scowling at the smirk he was given. “How did you talk with the psychiatric go?”

“She thinks I may have dissociative amnesia,” you sighed. “She wanted me to stay, locked up in the psych ward until she knew more, but I wouldn’t let her. I may not know who I am or how I got here, but I know I’m not a nutjob.”

The brothers snorted in unison. “Well, we’ve got our feelers out to see if you’ve gone missing,” Dean said. “But uh, ‘til we know your actual name, we gotta call you something.”

You had to agree, the idea of being Jane Doe wasn’t appealing. “Uh, I don’t know. You pick.”

Dean turned to his brother and jutted his chin, “You found her.”

Sam frowned at Dean and then turned back to you, his brow furrowed. “I can’t just give you a name.”

You smiled at him, eyes soft and your teeth raking over your bottom lip. “I want you to.”

He sighed and shook his head. “Okay then. Y/N.”

“Really,” Dean grinned.

“Hey, you asked me and that’s what I’ve got,” Sam said defensively. “And I like the name.”

You leaned forward in your seat and reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. “I like it,” you assured him. “Thank you.” He didn’t respond verbally, but he gave you a simple nod and you were back in your seat with your hands wrapped around the blanket once more.

Dean spotted at a drive through to get dinner much to Sam’s disapproval. You were happy with food wherever it came from and the smell had your stomach growling from the backseat. The bag was passed back to you and Dean let out a growly warning, “Don’t get anything on the seats or the floor.” You promised and shoved a handful of fries into your mouth, groaning at the greasy, salty taste.

By the time you got to Sam’s basement level apartment, you had one burger and large fry down and were still yearning for more. “Slow down there, tiger,” Dean teased as he helped you out of the car. “You’re gonna get heartburn.”

“Worth it,” you said with the last of your fries in your mouth. They lead you inside where you were tackled by a monster of a dog.

“Moose, down,” Sam barked, but the dog didn’t listen, just put his two big paws on your shoulders and licked at your face. “I am so sorry.” He put the dog into a headlock of sorts and gently pulled him away from you.

“It’s fine,” you laughed, wiping away the drool with the back of your hand. “He’s sweet.”

“Yeah, wait until he does that at three in the morning,” Sam rolled his eyes and let the dog loose. “Have a seat.” He motioned to the soft, comfy looking couch crowded with equally inviting pillows. “Can I get you something to drink?”

You sat next to Dean while he divvied up the rest of the food, passing you another burger as you asked for water. “So,” you began, unwrapping your sandwich, “can we go back to when you said you would figure out what I am? Because that’s a pretty weird thing to say.”

“You have no idea what you did,” Dean asked. You looked at him confused. “Dropping the temperature in the room, the lights going crazy?” You shook your head. “Well, you did. I’m going to lay it to you straight, kid, all those things in fairytales and fantasy novels, they’re real, the good and the bad.”

You nodded slowly and slipped away from him, further down the couch. Sam joined you then, chuckling at your reaction and handed over a bottle of water. “He’s telling the truth.” He sat down on the coffee table in front of you and pressed two fingers against your drink and muttered, “Arctis.” The liquid within slowly froze over and your jaw dropped. “Uh, sorry about that.” He switched out your bottle with his own.

“How did you do that?”

“I’m a wizard,” he replied. “And what Dean said is true. There are werewolves, vampires, fae, just to name a few. But what you did, that’s real magic. Magic that I couldn’t do without any foci and without passing out after.”

“So I’m a wizard,” you asked slowly, suddenly feeling faint.

Sam shrugged, glancing to his brother momentarily, “You’re definitely human and have an amazing amount of power, but it takes more than flinging around spells to be a wizard.”

“Don’t gatekeep, dude,” Dean rolled his eyes and tried to catch your attention. “And I’m not sure how your memory works, but don’t go around talking about these things, alright? I mean, shouting around about magic and monsters would definitely locked you up.”

You nodded and sat down your burger, your stomach turning and your head light. “Do you think that there’s some kinda spell that took away my memory?”

 

Sam tilted his head and hummed. “I honestly didn’t think about that. I mean, I haven’t come across any spell that could completely wipe someone’s memories. There’s charms that could make you forget small details, a person’s face. Magic to take away everything like that is powerful, impossible.”

“But it could exist,” Dean asked, chomping away on his food.

“Yeah, I guess it could. I’d have to look into it,” Sam shrugged. “But let’s focus on finding out who you.”

Dean pulled out his phone and woke it up, checking on any messages from Trenton. “That’s gonna take some time. But hey,” he held the cell up to your face, “smile.” You did as you were told and gave him a weak smile as he snapped your picture. “It’ll make things easier. Let me focus on her name, you focus on finding the spell.”

“If it is a spell,” Sam countered.

“Well look into it anyway,” Dean huffed. “Even if she wasn’t hit with a whammy, maybe a reversal could help.”

Sam didn’t look too happy about the idea, but you looked hopeful. If it meant that you could remember who you were, then you’d take the chance. “Memory spells shouldn’t be thrown around,” he frowned. “They’re intricate magic and could mess you up permanently if even the slightest mistake is made. I don’t want to risk it.”

You reached for him, your hand on his knee, “I trust you, Sam.”

He looked down at your hand and placed his over yours. “That’s flattering, Y/N,” he smiled, using the name for the first time since he gave it to you, “but you don’t know me.”

“I know,” you frowned, “I just have a feeling that I can, you know? That I can trust the both of you, like I ended up here for a reason.”

The brothers exchanged a look, but Dean was the one who scooted closer and slung an arm around you. “Welcome to the family, Y/N.”


End file.
